


And Haymitch Drank

by KariahBengalii



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KariahBengalii/pseuds/KariahBengalii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because, really, drinking is <i>such</i> a productive way to deal with all of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Haymitch Drank

She slept, no longer peaceful, but fitful, nightmares abundant. Her hands twitched, her eyes darted behind closed eyelids, and she thrashed within the constraints of the bedding, but no noise came from her open mouth. Haymitch watched in silent anger at the Capitol, and drank.

It was hard to believe that they had reduced such a proud, strong girl like Katniss to this. But of course, every victor broke. The mentors didn't dare tell the tributes what would happen should they win or the Capitol would have no victor. No one signed up for this. No one wanted this, no matter how much they thought they did. It was a torture. And she'd been tortured. So Haymitch drank.

It was hard enough when she was sleeping, never mind when she was awake. She was hell when she was awake. She cried and shouted, and sometimes stared blankly at a wall. But worst of all, she was taking after him. She, too, drank.

Sometimes they drank together. They sat together on the sofa in the living room and drank, sometimes making obscure comments, things that wouldn't make any sense to anyone else. Things about the Games, life before the Games, how to cope after the Games. With Peeta so unsure what was real and what was not, Katniss, too, suffered. She may as well be a victor alone. They both drank.

And Haymitch was mad. How could the Capitol do such a thing to such a beautiful, wonderful girl? So maybe Haymitch liked her a bit more than he should. He liked her fire. He drank.

She was still just a girl, really. Haymitch was a sick, sick man. But he couldn't help it. It was her fire. It drew him like a moth to a flame. He drank.

She would surely be disgusted if she knew. She'd keep her distance from him and he'd feel even worse for not being able to see her. He drank.

If only he knew that his, surely, sickening feelings were reciprocated. If only he knew he was another part of the reasons that she drank.

And so, in some sort of sick dance, they were together. They drank.

And neither would know how the other felt. Neither would know what the other thought of when they drank.

And Haymitch watched her, and Haymitch drank.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on ffnet


End file.
